Stephen King s Cat s Eye (1985)

THE SCREEN, 'CAT'S EYE'

the film's exuberantly wicked first segment, ''Cat's Eye'' could have been something of a classic of its genre, though I'm not sure exactly what that genre is.

''Cat's Eye'' - adapted by Stephen King, the best-selling author of ''Firestarter,'' ''The Shining'' and ''Carrie,'' from three of his own short stories - mixes elements of Roald Dahl's urbane, unsentimental humor with Mr. King's somewhat more commonplace affection for things magical and occult. Even though the mix contains lumps, ''Cat's Eye'' is the best screen adaptation of any King work since Brian De Palma's ''Carrie.'' Among other things, it's the most effectively pro-cat movie of the year to date.

The cat of the title, a fine, sturdy, gray-striped tiger with alley antecedents, acts as the bridge between the first two segments and then co-stars in the third with Drew Barrymore. The temptation is to say that he is terrific, though the producers make no secret of the fact that the activities of five or six lookalike animals were spliced together to achieve the remarkable performance seen in the finished film. Lewis Teague, who made ''Alligator,'' one of my favorite beast-running-amok movies of all time, has directed ''Cat's Eye'' with a good deal of comic authority, but almost equal credit must go to Karl Miller, who was responsible for the cats.

The film's second segment, adapted from a story called ''The Ledge,'' is a metaphorical cat-and- mouse game in which a good-looking but over-the-hill tennis pro named Norris (Robert Hays) plays the mouse to the cat of Cressner (Kenneth McMillan), a big-time Atlantic City gambler who'll bet on anything.

When Cressner discovers that Norris is planning to elope with his beautiful young wife, the gambler takes the tennis pro to his penthouse apartment and makes him a proposition. If Norris can walk entirely around the building on a five-inch-wide ledge, some 20 stories above the street, Cressner will give him a tidy fortune as well as his wife. If Norris refuses, he'll probably get tossed over the railing into the street anyway.

More about the plot I cannot reveal, except that the segment plays - with great effect - on a certain degree of acrophobia we all share, and must appeal to anyone who's ever wanted to kick a pushy pigeon, particularly a pigeon that won't get out of the way when one is attempting to walk, huddled against the wall, along a ledge high above the ground.

In the third segment, which supplies the film with its title, the cat, now named General, comes to the aid of a small girl (Miss Barrymore), whose mother and father refuse to believe the child's report that a troll, six inches tall and mean-tempered, comes out of her bedroom wall every night to scare the daylights (nightlights?) out of her and, possibly, to kill her. The cat is superb, Miss Barrymore very self-possessed and the troll, created by Carlo Rambaldi, who made E. T., is a first-rate goblin.

The opening segment, which is scarcely more than an extended black-out sketch, also cannot be easily described without giving too much away. All you really need to know is that it's about an ordinary, young New York businessman (James Woods) who decides - for the good of himself as well as his wife and daughter - to give up smoking by going to an outfit called Quitters Inc., run by a genially menacing bully who calls himself Dr. Donatti.

Donatti, beautifully played by Alan King, has devised a smoke-ending procedure unlike any others, involving a kind of conditioning program that has nothing immediately to do with the body of the person attempting to give up the insidious weed.

''Cat's Eye,'' which opens today at Loews State and other theaters, is pop movie making of an extremely clever, stylish and satisfying order.

''Cat's Eye,'' which has been rated PG-13 (''special parental guidance for those younger than 13''), contains some ghoulish elements, including one briefly seen but clearly severed head.